“Life is too short to dwell too much on worldly pursuits.” — Yong Shu Hoong, festival director of Singapore Writers’ Festival
Writing is a personal affair. After all, pouring oneself onto the page requires a certain vulnerability, which can make the process both exhilarating and anxiety-inducing. It’s a reality Yong Shu Hoong knows well. Even after he had published his first three poetry collections, the award-winning Singaporean poet still wrestled with a sense of impostor syndrome.
It’s reasonable to presume that this feeling was compounded by the fact that Yong—who is now the author of seven collections, three of which have won the Singapore Literature Prize—doesn’t have a formal background in writing. Trained in computer science and business, he spent years in the corporate world before deciding to go all in on his freelance writing career in 2006. Since then, he has become a perennial and important figure in Singapore literature, culminating in his appointment as festival director of the Singapore Writers Festival in 2024.
In this role, Yong delivered a deep and insightful line-up that spanned over 200 programmes and brought together around 40 international authors alongside local voices. As he continues to helm the festival in 2025, he is set to further shape one of the region’s most significant literary platforms—bringing Singaporean literature into deeper conversations with the world.
Who do you turn to for advice and what’s the best advice you’ve received?
As a poet, I do look inwards to decipher my own feelings and find answers in life through the cathartic process of writing. This may sound individualistic or even egotistical, but—if one believes in God—the simple act of writing may also take on a spiritual dimension.
How has your definition of success evolved?
My definition of success hasn’t been pegged very strongly to my professional life since I made the decision to leave the rat race years ago. To me, the sense of success is linked to my artistic persona as a poet, what I’ve written, and how my words might, in some small way, affect the readers who cared enough to pick up my books.
What emerging technology do you believe will shape the future of your field?
Generative AI is all the talk these days. I have tried asking DeepSeek to write poems in my style on various topics and the results are quite astonishing. I’m not sure how this will shape the future of poetry or whether the literary community will be divided by groups of people who use AI in their creative process and those who proudly refrain from it. But it does give me the impetus to continue improving my craft.
If you could change one thing about your industry, what would it be?
I’d advocate for more translation opportunities for literary works in English into the Chinese, Malay, and Tamil languages, and vice versa, to facilitate understanding of literary arts across the four official languages of Singapore. I’d also support the creation of more funding opportunities for translating Sing Lit works into other languages for export to the global stage.
What’s a belief or mindset that has fundamentally changed for you over the years?
The notion that Sing Lit is inferior to works written by authors based in the US, the UK and other countries that strongly assert themselves in promoting their literary works. When stripped of the need to compare the number of books sold (as in the case of fiction bestsellers), I would argue that the quality and inventiveness of Singapore poetry books stand up well to foreign poetry titles.
How do you balance ambition with well-being and where do you draw the line?
If I must draw the line, I’d ensure that my well-being is prioritised way above ambition. What’s the point of realising one’s dreams of enriching one’s coffers or inflating one’s ego if your health or mental well-being is compromised? I’m at an age when some friends have passed away without warning. Life is too short to dwell too much on worldly pursuits.
Photography by Eugene Lee of Enfinite / Hair & Makeup by Sophia Soh of Suburbs Studio
